


Crawling Back Again

by softieghost



Series: One for Silver [5]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Bottom Jean-Jacques Leroy, Consensual Infidelity, Dom/sub Undertones, Established Relationship, Face-Fucking, Felching, M/M, Rimming, Threesome - M/M/M, Top Otabek Altin, Top Yuri Plisetsky, dick stepping, steponjj2017, sub jean-jacques leroy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-24
Updated: 2017-07-24
Packaged: 2018-12-06 06:15:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,472
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11594622
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/softieghost/pseuds/softieghost
Summary: “Look, Jean,” Otabek started as he got dressed. “What I said last time was true. This shouldn’t happen anymore.”“Why do you let me crawl back, then?” Jean asked, parroting Yuri’s own question from earlier.Otabek didn’t respond.





	Crawling Back Again

**Author's Note:**

  * For [voxane](https://archiveofourown.org/users/voxane/gifts).



In heels, Yuri Plisetsky was taller than him. In heels, Yuri Plisetsky was every fantasy JJ refused to admit that he had. His mouth was dry as he watched Yuri dance around Otabek near the bar, flitting around in those goddamned black heels with red bottoms that he knew were expensive because he bought them for Bella all the time. He pulled out his phone and very quickly asked permission. _Ding!_ Granted!

JJ walked up to the bar where Yuri and Otabek were sitting – rather, where Otabek was sitting and where Yuri was walking around, dancing, twirling to the shitty music that JJ knew Otabek probably hated because he was a snob about such things. His stomach felt tight. They hadn’t done this in a long time, not since the other two had gotten engaged, and he was probably about to be rejected. He hoped beyond hope they would see the change in him, the difference in what he wanted _this time_ , but still he felt as nervous as he had been the first time.

“ _Mon amours_ , how are we tonight?” JJ asked, sing-song, butting his head into their conversation.

Otabek pulled back and set his drink down at the bar. There was a condensation ring on the wood already. They’d been here for a while.

“What do you want, JJ?” Yuri answered, taking the words out of Otabek’s mouth.

“I was wondering, you know, if you two wanted to catch a private drink?” JJ kept his smile in place but he knew those two had already made up their minds about him – nervous, dirty, and desperate. It was alright, though.

Otabek and Yuri shared a look as they so often did, communicating without words because they existed so far above everyone else that they didn’t need them. They were wrapped up in each other in ways most people would never be. And when they turned their faces back to JJ they had matching smiles – Otabek a silent bear and Yuri a stalking cat, both hungry for something.

“Let’s fucking go.” Yuri purred.

Yuri and Otabek’s hotel was across the street. They moved together in silence through the night with JJ trailing behind them. He could hear his heart beating in time with Yuri’s heels and Otabek’s motorcycle boots. He felt nauseous in the best way possible.

Yuri held the door for JJ and Otabek – even though he was once again asking for this he felt like maybe he was being invited in some way, too, and just that thought alone brought fire up his spine and around his neck. He was probably red faced from drinks and excitement and the heat of the room but he didn’t care all that much this time around, he didn’t have the energy to focus on the little things when he had his two loves where he wanted them, circling around him like he was pray in water. Perfect.

Otabek put his hands on JJ first, wrapping his arms around the back of his neck and trailing them down over his suit jacket before he pushed them up under the front of the jacket and shoved it off. It fell to the floor with a soft woosh of air and JJ began to feel exposed. Yuri was behind him, arms around his front, pulling his button-down from his pants. Yuri’s long nails scratched against his skin in the kind of dangerous way that he needed every once in a while. Bella had grown, just as he had, but sometimes he still wanted, wet mouthed, and looked, fire-eyes, over at the little blond thunderstorm at the top of the podium and he knew, oh he knew, it would never be the same.

Otabek kissed him. It was soft, almost tender, but more like a warning, don’t-get-too-close-this-time. JJ vowed he wouldn’t. He was different this time around. He was stronger. He could take it.

Yuri was biting at his neck, now, and JJ was panting out in the open because it really had been so long since he had felt like this. Otabek kissed him on the other side, too, and JJ was hard in his pants. Otabek pressed himself up against him and rubbed their clothed cocks together and JJ damn near blushed to feel how hard Otabek was too, as if that wasn’t the point here. But no, JJ knew this wasn’t just about him anymore so he reached down and palmed at Otabek’s fly, trying to make him blush under his tan skin. They must have gone to the beach or something because if anything Otabek was darker than ever, black hair shining under the hotel light.

JJ had always had a crush on him, after all.

Yuri pulled JJ’s hands back with a sharp tug, nails digging into his skin. He held them behind his back and with his other hand dragged his nails through JJ’s hair, almost hard enough to hurt. JJ tilted his head back. He leaned it up against Yuri’s shoulder like a lover would, asking for a kiss he never got, and was rebuffed, shoved off and towards the bed.

“Don’t ask for things you’ll never get.”

Yuri tugged at his own shirt, pulling it over his head.

“When did you get your nipples pierced, kitten?” JJ said, breathless at the sight of the gleaming metal barbells pushed through Yuri’s chest.

“A while ago. Don’t touch them, understand?” Yuri was in his face as he said this. They were almost close enough to kiss but JJ knew better. He’d never had the privilege and he never would, try as he might.

Otabek began to strip, too, and suddenly JJ felt overdressed in his suit pants but as he moved to take them off Yuri stopped him with a look.

“You know I saw the way you looked at me.”

“Yes.”

“Then you know I saw the way you looked at these.” Yuri nodded down to his shoes. He was in his pants, tight as paint, and his shoes, shining in the light. JJ gulped.

Otabek was shirtless, too, and looked so good against Yuri that JJ wanted to burst into flames. Otabek was tucked up into Yuri’s space and kissing him, on his neck and his chest and he had his arms wrapped around Yuri’s torso while Yuri stared JJ down, demon smile plastered on his angel’s face. His hair was down around his face and shoulders and he was running his hands through Otabek’s hair as Otabek sucked a hickey into his collarbone just for the pleasure of showing JJ what he wasn’t allowed to do. Yuri was hard in his pants, now, too.

Yuri tilted his head down to whisper something into Otabek’s ear, lips close enough for it to count as a kiss, and Otabek smiled in agreement.

“Kneel on the ground, Jean.” Otabek said as he peeled himself away from Yuri. Jean followed the instruction without question or complaint because this is what he wanted, after all, this is what had been asking for the entire goddamned time – their undivided attention, just once, just enough to hurt.

Jean’s knees hit the ground and they already ached, a little, from the competition the day before and the thought of competitions in the future but he took it on the chin and looked up at them with his cocky grin that he knew they could see through. He knew, by now, that everyone could see through it if they looked for more than a second but he kept it around just in case, anyway, and maybe a part of him liked being seen through. Maybe a part of him liked being one big exposed nerve, tortured into crying and begging and pleading and pleasing.

Otabek leaned down and ruffled his hair like he was new to all of this before pressing a kiss to the crown of his head.

“Pull your cock out.” His voice was low and hoarse and the bluntness that Jean really should have come to expect startled him for a moment. Yuri laughed at his perceived shyness.

Exposed, Otabek kissed him again and tilted his chin up, kissing his lips with another little warning kiss and moved his boot in between Jean’s legs. He nudged his knees apart, making him feel exposed and dirty and basal, which of course made him reach up for more. He jutted hit hips out, wanting a certain kind of contact which he did not receive.

Yuri stepped behind him, stilettos clicking even on the carpet somehow, and crouched down. He ran his fingers along Jean’s chest, playing with his nipples and scratching lightly at his neck, his pecs, his sides. Yuri drew out goosebumps and whimpers and little embarrassing moans from Jean’s lips. Yuri placed a kiss to the back of his neck, as close as their mouths would ever come, and Otabek moved his foot up closer to Jean’s exposed cock.

He held his breath.

Otabek’s boot was dirty in the literal sense. It was probably designer, probably cost hundreds of dollars, and yet it was covered in street dirt and motor oil and filth. It was cold, too, against Jean’s skin. Otabek pressed down lightly – just enough to give Jean the ghost of what he was looking for. He thrust upwards, wanting contact on his wet skin but got nothing because Otabek pulled back.

“I didn’t realize you were like this.” He smirked down at Jean whose cocky smile was absent from his face.

“Me either.” He admitted.

Jean was on fire. His knees hurt from his position and he wanted to lean back into Yuri’s skin, wanted to mark it purple and red from kisses. He wanted to suck on his nipples because they looked so fucking fine but all he got was the empty air around him. The position made him feel every square inch of negative space – the distance between his legs that exposed him and the width between him and Otabek that did not protect him and the closeness of his back and Yuri’s front that frightened him.

He stiffened, nervous and horribly turned on, as Otabek pressed his foot down again. This time it was harder and Jean was able to rub up against the tread and the day’s dirt and he, himself, felt like dirt for allowing this to happen but it was so right and so good to see Otabek’s brown eyes cast down on him like a loving king, granting his request.

Yuri shoved up against him, harder this time, and forced his hips up into Otabek’s boot. The pressure was almost painful but mostly he was red from enjoying it all and not the sharp squeeze of his balls against his pants and his leg. The teeth of his fly bit into him. He bit into his lip in a silent answer.

Jean was really rubbing up against the boot, now, wet precome making it feel almost slick and nice despite the mottled tread. His skin felt like it was bubbling where Yuri continued to touch him and he was panting, trying to bring in cool hotel room air to settle his nerves but he just couldn’t, not with those two looking at him. He was the one getting off, here, not them. How could he calm down in these circumstances?

“Beka, can we switch? I think he’s close.” Of course Yuri didn’t ask. Of course Yuri was right.

Yuri dropped him as soon as Otabek agreed.

“Actually, I have an idea.” Yuri started in English but finished in Russian, not that Jean minded, because he loved the way these two always took care of him just right by leaving him out of the loop. Otabek smiled and kissed Yuri on his cherry red mouth and Jean felt jealousy pour into his stomach as Yuri’s eyes closed for half a second, smiling into the kiss.

Yuri grabbed a little pouch out of a suitcase and extracted a condom and lube.

Ah.

Otabek pulled off his boots and Jean mourned them for a moment before Otabek pulled off his pants, too, and then his underwear and took the lube out of Yuri’s hand but left the condom behind with a wink and Jean was suddenly very grateful for the kindness – he wanted to leave feeling raw in every way he could and they knew that, they understood that. Jean smiled as he took his pants off, too.

Otabek sat on the edge of the bed and beckoned Jean over, laying him across his lap. Otabek’s fingers were already wet with lube and we wasted no time in beginning to prep Jean for what was about to happen. The first finger went in easily and Otabek was immediately rubbing up against his prostate, making him rub against his thighs in a desperate request to get off right then and there.

Lighting went up and down Jean’s spine and Otabek worked him open and Yuri stared at them. He wanted to know if Otabek did this to Yuri, too, if he took his time or if Yuri liked it a little too fast. Maybe they did both, Jean thought, as Otabek put his second finger in and began to twist and pull and push. Otabek’s fingers were so good to him – they were exactly what he needed. He hadn’t done this in a while, even with Bella, because the middle of the season was just a little too busy for it all so he was coming apart very quickly against Otabek’s palm.

Yuri was in his face again.

“Isn’t it nice when someone takes care of you just right?”

Jean nodded, understanding Yuri’s implication.

“Does Bella do this for you?” He asked, prodding the same as Otabek was – in such a manner that flames were building inside him, just for different reasons.

“She’s better at it than you.” Jean tried to squirm his way out of a truthful answer and failed, spectacularly, to everyone’s knowledge.

“Then why do you keep crawling back?” Yuri stood up, out of Jean’s face after asking, and Otabek used the moment of silence to add a third finger.

The stretch was nearly unbearable, not from pain, but from white-hot rightness. Jean knew they were both judging him for being so loud but he didn’t care all that much.

“Beks, come on, I’m ready.” He begged.

“You heard the man.” Yuri laughed. He was sitting against the desk in the room, legs crossed, naked save for his black heels and a silver band around his left ring finger. The wedding was soon. Jean was already fitted for his best man’s suit.

Otabek lifted Jean up and slowly, ever so slowly, pulled him down again. Otabek was big, Jean knew this, but it really had been a long time so it burned a little despite all the lube and the good prep he had been issued. Gradually Otabek’s cock found its way inside Jean, centimeter by centimeter, until Jean was sitting on Otabek’s lap again, back to front.

Jean’s legs were spread and he felt exposed again. Having Otabek behind him was a very different experience from having Yuri behind him – like this he felt almost safe or protected but even so he’d almost rather have Yuri behind him again because it meant he wouldn’t have had Yuri in front of him.

He knew in his mind Yuri wouldn’t hurt him in ways he didn’t want to be hurt. It had always been like that – Yuri yelled when Jean wanted to him to yell and he ignored him when he wanted to be ignored. Yuri had always hurt him in the right way, even when he didn’t mean to. Even before all of this had ever started. But now Yuri was grinning down at him like he didn’t give a fuck what Jean wanted even as Jean begged, please, just like that. Maybe that was a part of the game, too.

Otabek was thrusting up into Jean where they sat as Yuri slinked over. Jean was aching and red against his own stomach but no one was touching him so he wasn’t going to either. In this position, on the low hotel bed, Yuri was much taller than him especially with the heels on. They accentuated his long legs and narrow hips and, yeah, they somehow made even his dick look nicer. Jean wanted it in his mouth.

Yuri dragged his shoe-clad foot against Jean’s leg. Yuri was strong, Jean knew, but this was going to take perfect balance. If anyone could do it it was Yuri, though, so he wasn’t worried all that much.

The shoe slid against his skin and up to his naked cock. Yuri, with one foot planted and the heel of the other foot resting against the bed, pressed down. He was rougher than Otabek, though that wasn’t a surprise. He pressed harder and longer and once again Jean was doing the work. He tried, desperately, to both bounce on Otabek’s cock and rub his own against the sole of Yuri’s shoe but he couldn’t quite do it, the rhythm was awkward.

Otabek pressed upwards, helping because he was a perverted saint, and spurred Jean on to righteousness himself. They well and truly fucked as Yuri hurt Jean with the shoe in the way he needed, rubbing at his own cock in Jean’s face. Jean parted his lips, gasping at the dual pleasure-pain of stretch and drag and pressure, and leaned forward as best he could, looking for another offering to his destruction.

Yuri leaned forward, turning his knee out but still pressing down with his foot, and offered Jean his cock.

Jean realized this would be how he died. Otabek’s cock in his ass, Yuri’s cock in his mouth, Yuri’s shoe against his own painful and needy dick, and Bella’s waiting smile for him at home.

Yuri tasted like salt and skin and Jean wanted to take him all at once but he gagged when he tried. Yuri pressed forward anyway, invading his space. Jean was sandwiched between the two men and felt every second of it – it was skin on skin and breath on necks and Yuri smiling down at him. They were a tight ball of sex in the wide open hotel room.

Yuri was so close Jean could smell his cologne. He smelled like pure sex, like Otabek’s motorcycle, like whisky from down at the bar.

His cock jumped as he swallowed around Yuri’s head and tried not to gag again. He wanted to prove himself but it was hard when he was riding Otabek just so and pressure was building inside of him as Yuri continued to step on him.

He thrust his cock up against the shoe and felt so low that he came, right there, without any warning. It was a surprise to even him as he panted on Yuri’s cock but refused to pull away. Yuri pressed forward again and began to fuck his mouth. Jean felt tears in his eyes as he wasn’t given any relief from his own orgasm and what was happening now. Drool escaped his mouth along with ugly little noises until Yuri came, too, down his throat.

Yuri pulled back, finally letting Jean breathe, but not to be outdone Otabek pushed him sideways so he was on his hands and knees and fucked him hard, hips slapping against ass. Jean was overstimulated and whimpering as Otabek hit his prostate every time but when he looked back and saw Yuri kissing Otabek’s mouth he felt a different kind of thunder in him – blood rushed to his face and his dick but he couldn’t quite get hard again. He tensed, clenching on Otabek’s dick, and felt an orgasm build before it got ripped away from him when Otabek stopped and spilled in his ass. If Otabek had kept going Jean was sure he would have come dry.

Instead he was rewarded with Otabek’s come leaking out of his ass and Otabek’s mouth on his ass, too, which was new. Jean squirmed and cried at the sensation of Otabek eating his own come out. His tongue was hot and cold all at once, too much and not enough as well and this time he really was going to get hard again but Otabek stopped short and pulled away.

Jean’s head spun at the loss of contact. He breathed deeply and not at all, trying to figure out what to do with the watery feeling of almost-turned-on-again in his stomach. Yuri and Otabek looked down at him until he moved, chagrinned at the overexposure.

“Look, Jean,” Otabek started as he got dressed. “What I said last time was true. This shouldn’t happen anymore.”

“Why do you let me crawl back, then?” Jean asked, parroting Yuri’s own question from earlier.

Otabek didn’t respond.

**Author's Note:**

> #steponjj2017


End file.
